


Cut Away

by KaiserinAstraia



Category: Kingdom Hearts (Video Games)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Re:Mind, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:21:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25991260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaiserinAstraia/pseuds/KaiserinAstraia
Summary: The scissors tumbled out of Sora’s hand and clattered to the floor. The sound was so loud it sent a shiver up Sora’s spine in the most unpleasant way.“I can’t,” Sora choked out. “I’m sorry.”
Relationships: Riku/Sora (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 147





	Cut Away

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by @/sekajiku 's gif of kh3 long-haired Riku! Here: https://twitter.com/sekajiku/status/1295044160332931072?s=20

Sora never hesitated, until now.

It was like his hand was paralyzed — he told his fingers to pull together, told his other hand to pull Riku’s long, silver hair closer, but neither of those things happened. He was shaking, he realized, by the way the long, silver blades of his scissors shook.

He took a shuddered breath, realizing he forgot to breathe. He stared at Riku again — his back, still and strong; his pristine white shirt contrasting with the silver of his hair; the shine of the silver strands matching the metal scissors, clueless to what would transpire. Riku always looked so calm and put together, but the length of his hair falling past his shoulders told another story.

It told the story of Sora’s disappearance. 

“Sora…?” Riku turned in his chair to look over his shoulder at Sora, who sat there like a deer in the headlights. 

There was something in the green of his eyes; something terrifyingly _tired_. Sora felt his throat close and Riku straightened, alarmed. Before Riku could say anything, the scissors tumbled out of Sora’s hand and clattered to the floor. The sound was so loud it sent a shiver up Sora’s spine in the most unpleasant way.

“I can’t,” Sora choked out. “I’m sorry.”

“Sora, it’s ok—” 

“No, it’s not!” Sora didn’t mean to yell, but Sora didn’t mean to cry, either. Though he couldn’t bear to touch him moments ago, Sora buried his hands into Riku’s hair like a lifeline and bowed his head like he’d rest it on Riku’s shoulder. “I thought— I thought that I should cut it short, like last time, that that would make things better but—” Hiccups interrupted him, but he didn’t mind the pain. If anything, it was sickeningly satisfying and deserved.

Sora felt Riku’s hand hovering on his arm, felt the heat like Sora did when he sunbathed back on the islands. Sora sniffled and Riku touched him, gentle and careful and calloused. God, Sora hated it; hated to be treated like glass shards, hated that he wondered which callouses were gained in Sora’s name. But even so, Sora felt the touch like Riku cradled his heart, instead. It comforted him even when he didn’t want it — didn’t _deserve_ it.

“Riku, you— we— _I_ can’t fix it. That’s all I want to do but...”

“Fix what?” Riku’s voice was low, almost a mumble. He began rubbing soothing circles into his arm with his thumb. It almost made Sora angry, because Riku didn’t understand that Riku should be _upset_ with him, not comforting him.

“I hurt you. _Again_.” Somehow saying it made it worse, and Sora couldn’t help but release a sob. His fingers curled tighter into Riku’s soft strands while the rest of him doubled over as much as he could in the chair like he could wind himself up into a tight ball to fill the chasm of pain in his chest.

Riku stilled, but Sora hardly noticed past trying to stop his tears. Sora continued, “I can’t give you that time back… there’s nothing I can do to give it back…” He can’t cut it away, the days and nights that Riku spent searching for him. Sora hadn’t asked him to, but he knew Riku would because he had before.

It was _different_ , then. Sora didn’t know — didn’t know how long he’d been asleep, didn’t know who watched over him or _why_. When Sora cut Riku’s hair before, it felt like a release; telling Riku that enough was enough. He didn’t have to carry the guilt or regret of the past anymore. But now…

Now Sora wanted to cut it for himself. Riku’s long, disheveled yet somehow elegant strands reminded Sora of all that he missed, of all that Riku suffered to get Sora back. Riku wasn’t the only one, Sora knew, but Sora felt Riku’s pain as if it were his own. Sora _knew_ Riku, and knew that Riku shouldered more than he should — and even after all that, was still the one to dive down to the abyss to drag Sora back with no guarantee either of them would return.

He didn’t like to think about all that was sacrificed, when so much had been destroyed and ripped away from them. Sora had spent years stepping forward and not looking back, pushing consequences and collateral damage to the side, and he thought that was how to be strong, to be a hero. But he can’t look away from Riku, even if he wanted to. He can’t heal this wound, and he wouldn’t forgive himself if he pretended it didn’t exist.

So all he could do is say sorry.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

“Sora…” Riku's hands shook as he cupped Sora’s face and tilted it up. Through tears Sora’s eyes met Riku’s and the storm that raged in them. Riku’s expression was inscrutable but resolute, and still struck Sora speechless. “I don’t regret it.” 

Sora blinked rapidly, as if that could make his words seep in quicker. Riku continued while wiping tears with his thumb, “The pain… it reminded me of what was most important.” He looked away, expression softer. “One year, ten, a lifetime — it doesn’t matter if you have the strength to protect who you… care about.” 

_But why_ ** _me_** _?_ Was what Sora _wanted_ to ask, but he couldn’t. He was a little afraid of the answer. Instead he shook his head. “Riku, I don’t want you to _have_ to be strong all the time — I want…” He didn’t know how to articulate what he wanted… Did he want Riku to rely on him? Did he want Riku to be angry with him? Did he want Riku to give demands, so Sora never went where he couldn’t follow?

“Could you braid it?” 

Sora paused, and Riku dropped his hand to cover one of Sora’s. “We could… keep it this way, for a little while,” he explained. He looked shy, almost, biting his bottom lip. The ache in Sora’s chest ruffled like butterflies fluttering their wings for flight and lessened. 

Riku could keep it — and Sora could care for it. Sora uncurled his fingers and felt how Riku’s hair slipped through them like silk.

A braid. Princess Rapunzel had taught him. He could do that. The burden could be woven into something beautiful. 

Sora unwittingly nodded and Riku turned back so that his hair flowed down in a curtain of silver. It was unfairly pretty. Sora hesitated to touch it again — but only for a moment. 

The hair was tangled and a little greasy — not enough to be gross, but just enough to notice. Sora only had a brush and the discarded scissors, so he worked the ends with his fingers first. The distraction dried Sora’s eyes, and he wiped the tears remaining on his sleeve, sniffling slightly.

Though they were quiet, Sora felt like they were speaking regardless. Their fragile silence reminded him of the first time Sora heard the notes of their song in his heart, faint and searching. This braid would be those notes and as they regained their voices and time, they could hear the song fuller and louder. Sora would accept it all, even the parts he didn’t want to hear. Their wound would stitch closed, the same way Riku’s hair grew each centimeter.

Sora wanted to know about the year he was gone, but neither of them were ready. And that was ok.

Sora finished the braid with a snap of the black hairband; it was by no means perfect, but Sora admired it instead of abhorred it. It was a little easier to breathe.

“I wish…” Riku said, voice wistful like he was far away, “I wish I could give you the year back, too.” 

Tears rushed to Sora’s eyes again, but he rested his forehead against Riku’s shoulder and nodded. The water soaked into Riku’s shirt, but neither of them moved. They simply sat together, finally in the same place.

**Author's Note:**

> See I can write angst sometimes alkshdf thanks for reading! <3  
> I'm on twitter @/KaiserinAstraia!


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